


Feel Something

by Neversacrificeanything



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Magical Powers, Alternate Universe - Twins, Biting, Branding, Drug Use, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kidnapping, M/M, Magic, Slow Burn, Tags to be added, There's no exy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-10-25 03:51:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10756128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neversacrificeanything/pseuds/Neversacrificeanything
Summary: What happens if Renee and Andrew were both adopted by Stephanie Walker? Growing up as siblings and learning how to survive the world together.---Instead of Aaron, Andrew makes his first deal with Renee.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone. This is my first time writing anything for AFTG so i hope you enjoy. This chapter does a lot of skipping around, but I promise the rest of the chapters won't be this bad. Also, I've changed a lot regarding Andrew's past and Neil's family, so if you have any question, comment them and I'll do my best to answer. Since I know absolutely nothing about sports, theres no exy. Instead, theres an art club. I have no clue how often I'll be updating, but hopefully it'll be semi-regularly. Maybe. We'll see. 
> 
> Title from the song Feel Something by Jaymes Young. Amazing song. 
> 
> Again I hope you enjoy :)

The first time Andrew meets someone with a number larger than five, he still doesn’t completely understand what the numbers on people's forehead represents. Standing in the doorway, he scans the room and locks eyes with a girl surrounded by people. To many, it might have looked as if they were having a intense staring contest, but Andrew is focused on the black number on the girl's forehead. Eight. In all his life, Andrew has never seen a number that high, at least not in person. People in movies and on TV, the characters that were the villains and bad guys, usually had higher numbers. Andrew remembers watching Batman and nearly jumping out of his seat when the Joker first appears, an eight on his forehead. Andrew refuses to go near the girl, even when she offers him a cookie. It’s tempting, who knows when the next time he'll be allowed to have anything sweet, but the number forces him to keep his distance. He doesn’t understand why everyone looks so comfortable and relaxed near the girl, can't they see the number?

Over the next few weeks, Andrew gains some invaluable knowledge. Apparently no one else in the orphanage could see the numbers. After mentioning it to one person and receiving a look of confusion, Andrew concludes that he is the only one who could see the numbers. He also learns to stay away from the woman with the yellow teeth and the six on her forehead. Watching from his seat by the fireplace, every survival instinct in his body screams for him to run when the woman enters the room. She never approaches Andrew, but would lure the other children upstairs with the promise of sweets. Later that night, after the lights had been turned out and the children were told to sleep, the child from earlier would enter, and Andrew shivers as he remembers the haunted look in their eyes. As long as Andrew stays out of trouble, people seem happy to ignore him, everyone but that girl. If Andrew didn't know any better, he'd say that she was just building up her confidence, but her number says different. Most likely, she's trying to decide if the new kid is worth any of her time.

That night, Andrew is late getting to bed because he accidentally broke a plate while clearing the table. His fingers and palms burn from the punishment and the largest of the lashes begin to bleed when he digs his nails into the skin. Opening the door, Andrew stumbles blurry eyed to his bed, throwing on a pair of sweatpants, foregoing a shirt because finding a clean one seems like too much effort. The other boys in the room are asleep and from previous experience, he doesn’t worry about waking them. Many of them could sleep through a nuclear war.

Looking back on that moment in the future, Andrew blames his exhaustion for his lack of awareness because it isn’t until he's tucked under the blanket that he notices someone sitting on the window seat. His tired bones protest when he sits up, failing to convince himself that it's just one of the boys risking punishment by staying up a bit later. That might have worked for most people, by even in his tired state, Andrew notices the hair. Hair that is too long to belong to a boy.

Grabbing a t-shirt off the floor, Andrew asks, “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I was hoping we could talk,” she says softly. Even with the distance between them, Andrew can hear the clicking sound of the window being unlatched. He raises an eyebrow. She gives a half-hearted shrug. “It’s more private.”

She climbs out the window and for a moment Andrew thinks about ignoring her and going back to sleep. The beginning of winter is just around the corner and he does not feel like freezing his balls off, thank you very much. With a groan and a fleeting thought that he’ll regret this in the morning, Andrew wraps himself in a blanket and follows the girl on the roof. There's a second where he wonders if she’s brought him out here to push him off the roof, but the way her body curls in on herself, Andrew chooses to ignore her number for a moment.

The rough surface of the shingles irritate his already bloody and bruised hands, but the freezing temperature numbs his body. Shuffling over on his knees, he sits next to the girl, tucking his hands between his thighs. “Alright, I’m here. What do you want?”

“I’m sorry that I’m keeping you from sleeping, but I couldn’t find a better time to talk to you. They’re always watching.”

A strong gust of wind sends a trash can crashing to the ground. The resulting noise makes the girl reach for her boot, face morphing into confusion when she doesn’t find what she is looking for. Andrew tucks that information away for later.

“Who’s watching?” Andrew asks, giving the girl some time to calm down and compose herself. Past experience makes him intimately familiar with the fact that getting information from a person who is scared is nearly impossible and will only result in them shutting down.

“The man in the red jacket. He’s watching me, watching who I talk to. They’re always looking for smart people,” the girl mutters into the arm she’s wrapped around her neck. Looking over, their eyes catch and she smiles. “You’re a very smart person.”

Grinding his teeth, Andrew tightens the blanket around his shoulders. If he had any feeling in his legs he would have stormed off the roof, but they just feel like heavy lead blocks keeping him from moving. “Fuck you.”

“I’m sorry, but that’s why I wanted to talk to you out here. They can’t hear us out here,” she says in a hurry. “But I need your help.” A sickening realization draws on Andrew when the girl touches her forehead. She smiles again, apparently amused by Andrew’s horror, and pushes a loose chunk of shingle to the ground. “You can see the numbers. I already know what number I am so it's not a surprise that you tried your hardest to avoid me. I knew another person who has your ability, and in a world where most people can do magic, it takes a lot to be considered special.”

“How can I help you? You and your gang must be pretty well-stocked already.” Andrew is careful not to let his satisfaction show on his face when the girl flinches. She was right, he is very smart.

“This has nothing to do with them. I want out. I want a new life. There's this woman, Stephanie, who wants to adopt me. Everything is all set, I just have to sign the papers,” she admits with a sad smile. “I want to sign the papers, but I’m worried about my past finding me.” There’s a pause where she thinks over her words carefully. “I want to make you a deal.”

Thinking about it for a moment, Andrew replies, “Protection for… what? What do I get out of this?”

“I’ll teach you how to fight with knives,” she offers. “I noticed you keep a pair in your room.” Yeah, under his mattress.

The moon above their head is barely a sliver and the city pollution does a great job at concealing most of the stars, but Andrew has enough light to notice the girl nervously fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. “Okay, but don't expect anything more from me. I’m just protecting you.”

“That's all I need.”

Slowly, Andrew gets himself to his feet. It feels like someone is sticking millions of needles into his skin and his legs shake. The girl appears to be fairing much better, there's even a bounce to her step. Once they’re back inside, Andrew collapses on his bed, barely silencing a groan. “Hey, wait, what's your name?”

Tapping her finger against her cheek in thought, her eyes light up. “Renee,” she decides. “That’ll be my new name.” Swiftly moving across the room, she pauses at the door, looking over her shoulder. Andrew is already in his bed, back under the blanket. It's unlikely that he’s asleep, but his body is motionless. Renee sighs, saying a quiet, “Goodnight, Andrew,” before leaving. Tomorrow when she calls Stephanie, hopefully she’ll be willing to bring two damaged children into her life.

 

~

 

The following morning, Andrew can’t hide his surprise when he comes downstairs and is handed a stack of papers. Adoption papers. Everything is filled in, including his legal name change, and all he has to do is sign. Taking a seat at the table, across from Stephanie and beside Renee, Andrew steals one of Ellen’s glitter pens and signs his name. The woman with the yellow teeth sneers, ripping the papers out of Andrew’s hands and looks about a second away from tearing the papers to tiny bits. Once the woman has left, Renee begins chatting with Stephanie, first about possible room colours than about school starting up again in a couple weeks. Renee will be starting grade seven, just a year ahead of Andrew. They don’t try to include Andrew and he doesn’t offer up anything more than a grunt of approval when Stephanie suggests they go get ice cream to celebrate.

Andrew doesn’t look back as he stands near the shiny pickup truck. It's not what he had in mind and that must have shown on his face because Stephanie laughs. “I’m borrowing my son’s truck while my car is getting its windshield replaced.”

Renee uses her height advantage to get to the truck first, climbing in the front seat, sticking her tongue out as she closes the door. Taking the back seat with his bag in his lap, Andrew sees the woman with the yellow teeth standing on the front steps. He gives her the middle finger and before she can react, Stephanie is pulling away from the curb.

The drive to Stephanie’s house is quiet. Renee takes control of the radio and bypasses the music stations, instead settling on a news station talking about the Second World War. Andrew finishes his ice cream before they make in to the highway, leaving the cone in one of the cup holders. Stephanie seems content with spending the hour drive asking meaningless questions, like what their favourite food is and what hobbies they have. She doesn’t ask anything about their pasts and Andrew notices how Renee is no longer clutching the door handle with one hand. He has no doubt that at the first sign of trouble she would have jumped out of the car, moving or not.

It’s nearly one o’clock when they pull into the driveway of Stephanie’s one story house. Andrew stumbles while climbing out of the truck, blaming it on not eating anything besides an ice cream, but remains quiet as he follows Renee and Stephanie into the house. Renee slips around Stephanie, taking in the living room with wide eyes. Leaving Renee to explore the house herself, Stephanie turns to smile at Andrew. Cautiously, Stephanie extends her hand and places it on Andrew’s shoulder only when he nods. He keeps his eyes fixed to the black, blocky four that stands out against the paleness of her forehead. It takes every ounce of his self-control not to flinch, and Stephanie looks so damn happy.

“Welcome home, Andrew.”

 

~

 

It could have been a hundred and one different things that pulled Andrew out of his exhaustion induced sleep that night, but the noise coming from the room across the hall is what has Andrew rolling out of his warm bed at two in the morning. Silently, he slips on a t-shirt, blindly reaches for the knife wedged between the bed frame and the mattress and crosses the four foot hallway that separate Andrew and Renee’s doors. Resting his hand on the doorknob, Andrew debates knocking when he hears a soft groan from inside. Memories of hands holding him down and his face shoved into pillows to keep him quiet makes Andrew freeze. Mentally steeling himself, Andrew curses himself for thinking this place would be any different from the others. Now that he thinks about it, he does remember Stephanie mentioning a son.

Andrew has the door open and is beside Renee’s bed before his eyes can adjust to the darkness. The ghosts of his past cloud his mind, causing apparitions from his own past to take shape in the dark room. In his mind, the lanky shadow caused by the floor lamp is a man, standing over Renee’s bed and keeping her submissive. With an animalistic growl, Andrew lunges, armed with a knife he doesn’t know how to properly use. A hand grabs his elbow and swiftly disarms Andrew, pushing him hard enough to send him flying off the bed.

The sudden impact with the floor is enough to pull Andrew out of whatever memory he was trapped in. Renee watches him calmly, lying on her side and cradling her bleeding arm to her chest. She doesn’t appear angry, but her blank stare isn't as good as Andrew’s because he can read the concern bright in her eyes.  
Realizing they’re alone in the room, he sits up, settling his gaze on Renee’s arm. His knife is embedded in the adjacent wall and the sharp ache in his wrist makes him scoff.

“Andrew…” she says, watching him. The eight on her forehead hasn't changed and he wonders just how easy it would have been for her to kill him.

“You’re bleeding.” It’s a statement and Renee nods, uncaring of the blood staining her sheets. She follows Andrew into the bathroom, where she sits on the toilet and waits for him to grab the first aid kit out of the closet. As she examines the cut, Renee notes that it isn't very deep, but it runs from her mid arm to her elbow. Nothing that should require stitches. Andrew wipes away the blood and cleans it with a disinfecting wipe. There's nothing particularly gentle in the way Andrew handles the situation, but he isn't rough and doesn't touch her longer than necessary.

Giving herself a moment to breathe after Andrew has left the room, Renee walks out to find her window open and pokes her head out. It reminds her of the first time they talked, out on the roof of the orphanage. There’s a flat part of the roof that runs just below Renee’s window and that is where she finds Andrew, laying on his back and smoking. Crawling out the window, Renee sits by his feet and he wordlessly tosses her a cigarette and a lighter.

“Does she know about this?” Renee asks, dropping the lighter between them. Considering how confident she seems with a cigarette, Andrew guesses this isn't her first time.

“Of course,” he answers. “She doesn’t really care. She figures there are worse things than smoking.”

Humming in agreement, she allows the silence to stretch on for another minute before she asks the question. “Why were you in my room, Andrew?”

“You sounded like you were in trouble,” Andrew admits, biting the inside of his cheek because of how childish he sounds. “I heard a noise and… well, they always wait until you’re alone late at night.”

Renee knows that pity will only make Andrew angry so she keeps her gaze on the horizon. “I’m sorry that I worried you. I must have been having a nightmare. I don't even remember.”

If only some of us are so lucky, Andrew thinks bitterly, but doesn't say it out loud, not yet. Instead he says, “Well, after tonight I think you can start teaching me how to properly use my knives.”

Smiling, Renee nods. “Of course, we can start tomorrow.”

Together, they smoke through half a pack. The woman from next door is just leaving for her shift at the hospital when the wind picks up. Andrew can feel Renee shivering beside him, but neither of them move. It's nearly seven o’clock when Renee says they should go inside. The dark clouds on the horizon promise rain and the distant sound of thunder is enough to convince Andrew to return inside. Renee follows Andrew as he walks through her room, leaning against her door frame as Andrew enters his own room. “I’ll talk to Stephanie. She’ll probably let us use the garage.”

His own response is closing the door. Renee interprets that how she likes and throws on a sweater before heading downstairs. When she gets to the kitchen and finds Stephanie at the table, a huge stack of pancakes behind her on the counter, any lingering doubts about their new life vanish with Stephanie’s warm and genuine smile.

 

~

 

On the first day of the school year, Renee promised Andrew she’d buy him all the ice cream he could eat if he went the first week without getting into a fight. It had been close, there was one girl in his math class who hadn’t understood that Andrew really wasn't that interested, but a kid in the class interrupted before he could tell her to fuck off. However, the kid – Matt – must have some serious mental problems because he won't leave Andrew alone, talking as if they’re best friends. For the most part, Andrew ignores him, but that doesn't stop Matt from telling stories about the art club his girlfriend Dan runs. The school is too broke to afford an actual art teacher so the gym teacher and school nurse supervise.

One afternoon, between second and third period, Matt invites Andrew to come to their club. There's only five students in the club and nobody takes it too seriously; well, except for Kevin, but he takes everything too seriously. Andrew was about to tell Matt to fuck off for the fourth time that day when he feels an arm slip around his waist. If it wasn't for the familiar smell of the candles Stephanie insists on burning, Andrew would have stabbed them. Renee smiles knowingly and introduces herself to Matt as Andrew’s sister. Most people see the matching blonde hair and accept Renee’s words as truth. Matt jokes that for a moment he was worried his friend had gotten a girlfriend and hadn't told him. Renee just continues to smile as Andrew once again says they aren't friends and Matt shrugs. Before Andrew can manage to get Renee as far away from Matt as possible, he extends the offer to Renee, who accepts with a promise that she’ll bring Andrew too.

Matt, thankfully, soon leaves with the biggest smile Andrew has ever seen on someone’s face. Once he’s out of earshot, Renee asks what his number is and he admits with an eye roll that it's only four. That seems to satisfy Renee and she walks Andrew to his next class and says she’ll meet him by the back cafeteria doors. Grumbling that he’s not going to the stupid art club, Renee changes the subject and proposes tacos for supper. Andrew makes no objections and slips inside his class just as the teacher is about to do attendance. And when Andrew sits beside Matt during lunch, Matt notices that his glare seems a little less intense than it usually looks.

When the last bell rings, Andrew mumbles a quick goodbye to Jacob and goes to meet Renee in their usual spot. Settling down on one of the benches, Andrew pulls out a book because he knows she’s going to be awhile. Renee is friends with Matt’s girlfriend Dan and another girl from their English class. They have a group project due in a couple of days and Renee texted him during sixth period saying she’d be staying late. That didn’t bother Andrew, he’s been hoping for some time to finish his book. It was one of the better books Renee had recommended to him.

One bad habit that Andrew has is that he’ll forget about the world around him while he’s reading. It doesn’t happen often, but often enough that Renee makes sure she’ll check in on Andrew if she knows he’s found a particularly good book. It's common for him to read for hours without stopping, so immersed in his reading that he doesn't notice what is going on around him.

The next time Andrew looks up from his book, the sky has darkened considerably. Pulling out his phone, he curses when he realizes that nearly two hours have passed since he first picked up his book. Renee said she wouldn’t stay more than an hour and a half and with no new texts except one from Matt, Andrew stuffs his book in his bag and sprints to the front doors. Rounding the corner, Andrew skids to a stop and drops his backpack. Renee stands in the middle of a circle of grade twelves. Andrew can’t hear what they’re saying but by Renee’s expression, it isn't anything respectful. Reaching for his knives, Andrew silently curses when he remembers they’re in a locked drawer in his room. Stephanie was okay with Andrew and Renee learning to fight with knives, but she made them promise not to bring them to school.

In the end, it won’t have mattered if Andrew did have his knives. Going up against six guys at least twice his size would be stupid and only land him in the hospital. He makes up his mind quickly and only manages a couple steps when one of the guys tries to grab Renee’s arm. In hindsight, it's good that Andrew didn’t get close because he would have only gotten in the way. The guy who tried to grab Renee goes crashing to the ground with a wail, clutching his wrist to his chest. From the sickening noise, Andrew would guess that it's broken. The remaining five guys send each other shocked looks, suddenly not looking so confident. One of the guys must have fewer brain cells than the rest because he tries to punch Renee.

Andrew watches with delight bubbling in his chest as Renee, one by one, sends all five of the guys to their knees. It’s unlikely that the last guy will ever have children and the football team will now be down a few players, but it serves them right. Watching Renee defend herself, he is reminded that Renee is deserving of the eight she wears. Andrew crosses the distance and stands beside Renee, slowly clapping.

“That was impressive,” he says, surveying the groaning and crying bodies at their feet.

There's blood on her knuckles and a bruises forming on her jaw from where one of the guys got a hit in, but she smiles. “Thank you. We should probably leave before someone calls the police.”

Offering Renee a chocolate bar, she nibbles on the candy during the walk home. When they walk in the front door, Stephanie is so relieved to see them she doesn’t immediately notice Renee’s state. When she does, she orders Renee to sit on the couch and not to move, running off the get a first aid kit. Stephanie doesn't ask what happened, but Renee tells her anyway. There’s real anger in her eyes when Renee finishes her story, not directed at them but at the boys that ganged up against Renee. Somehow, Renee talks Stephanie out of pressing charges and settles for staying home for the rest of the week. Renee and Andrew are left alone while Stephanie goes to make them some hot chocolate. Leaning gently against Andrew, Renee flicks through the channels until she finds a movie that she’s seen a hundred times before. It acts as background noise as Renee and Andrew talk softly, planning their revenge.

 

~

 

The arm wrapped around Renee’s shoulders is the only thing that keeps her from getting lost in the swarm of reporters they push their way through to get to their car. The Walker family lawyer walks with them to their car, advising the family to stay inside for the next couple days. Andrew gives the reporters the finger as Stephanie inches out of the parking lot.

The drive home is silent, but Renee can tell that Stephanie wants to ask if she is okay. Pulling into the driveway, Renee clenches her hands in her lap to make it less noticeable that they’re shaking. Turning off the car, Stephanie jumps out of her seat and runs around to open Renee’s door, helping her to her feet. The comfort of being in her mother’s arms helps vanquish the terror clawing at her chest. Andrew beats them to the door, leaving it open and his shoes in the middle of the hall.

Pulling away from Stephanie, Renee makes her way through the house and finds the backdoor open. Standing on the concrete steps, cigarette in hand, Andrew ignores Renee, even when he hears her clear her throat.

“Andrew,” she calls out. “Let’s make another deal.”

Scoffing, he doesn’t turn to look at her. Instead he stares out into the yard, eyes narrowing when he thinks he sees movement in the thick grove of trees. “What could you possibly want this time?”

“A friend.”

It’s unintentional, but the laugh that bubbles up in his chest is anything but humorous. “Oh, silly Renee. Ask me again in the morning. That is, if you still want to make a deal.”

Hearing the dismissal in his tone, she only stays around long enough to place a water bottle on the patio table. She understands that he needs his space and clings to the promise that they’ll talk in the morning. In the morning everything will be fine.

 

~

 

Stephanie gets the call at three in the morning. There's little said between mother and daughter. All they know is that Andrew had snuck out of the house, stolen a car and is now in the hospital. Using one hand to guide Renee and the other to wipe away the tears gathered in her eyes, Stephanie demands an explanation after she's made sure Andrew isn’t seriously hurt. A dislocated shoulder and a couple scrapes and bruises, but he’ll be fine. Sadly, the same can’t be said for the man Andrew hit. Renee overheard the doctor say that he’d never walk again.

Appearing unfazed by the potential consequences of his actions, Andrew’s expression is just a little too blank and Stephanie suggests they go outside and let Andrew rest. Taking a seat in the chair beside his bed, Renee’s hand is sure and steady when she reaches for Andrew’s hand. She expects him to pull away, but to her surprise he lets her tangle their fingers together. They’re both watching Stephanie, who’s speaking with a cop right in front of the open door. There are no less than four other cops milling around. They have an unobscured view of the common area and can see everybody. Nobody looks at the brother and sister directly, but they know they’re being watched.

Picking at the fraying edge of his hoodie, Andrew wonders carelessly if the number on his forehead has changed. His number has changed ever since Renee started teaching him how to use knives, and his chest aches with pride when he sees the seven in the mirror. But there are no reflective surfaces in his hospital room, and it's not like Renee could tell him.

Struggling to keep his eyes open thanks to the medication they’ve given him, Andrew’s mind is slower than usual and fails to understand at first what he’s seeing. The weight of Renee’s head on his shoulder keeps him from moving and he watches out of the corner of his eye as a hand phases through the wall. It's there and gone in a second, and Andrew ponders for a moment that maybe he imagined the last few seconds. Even though people with abilities aren't that uncommon, Andrew has personally never met anyone else with an ability. He’s seen news reports about people with abilities, usually being arrested for one reason or another, and the numbers on their foreheads don't make Andrew eager to meet any of them.

The sensation of being watched doesn’t leave that night. By the time Renee wakes up, Andrew has come to terms with what happened last night. It must have been a hallucination caused by the medication they gave him. A hand phasing through the wall just doesn’t sound logical. Removing her head from Andrew’s shoulder, Renee sends him a sleepy smile and throws on her sweater just as a police officer enters the room, an anxious Stephanie trailing behind him. Andrew understands what's happening and doesn't try to fight the officer as his hands are cuffed behind his back. Renee’s lips are pressed tightly together in anger, but she knows better than to speak up.

Ignoring the curious looks they get walking out of the hospital, Andrew almost kicks the guy in the knee when he touches his shoulder unexpectedly. There almost to the car when the officer turns to Stephanie, resuming their earlier conversation. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but there’s nothing I can do. Your son broke the law and now he faces the consequences.”

“We’ll meet you at the police station,” Stephanie promises to Andrew and he nods. Andrew didn’t expect it to hurt as much as it does to watch Renee and Stephanie walk away, leaving him behind. Allowing the officer to guide him into the car, he settles into the seat and swallows around the bitter taste in his mouth. Guilt isn’t an emotion that Andrew typically feels, but at the moment, something uncomfortably close settles at the bottom of his stomach.


	2. Chapter Two

Leaning back in his seat with a sigh, Ezekiel wonders how everyone has managed in his absence. Three days is a long time without a ruler, and Ezekiel is anxious to get back and reclaim his throne. Stepping out of the car, the distance to the door causes his bones to ache. Austin meets him at the door and informs him that everyone is waiting in the lounge. The dim hallway calms Ezekiel, remembering the white room that is his uncle’s office with a shiver. 

When Ezekiel enters the room, the conversation stops. His gaze flows over the room, landing on a sight that makes him grin. Cassie doesn’t move from Alex’s lap, even when Ezekiel comes to stand in front of them. 

"You are mine," Ezekiel sneers, threading his fingers through her hair and forcing her to look him in the eyes.

"I know," Cassie says softly.

"I am your Master."

"I know," she repeats, louder this time. Alex’s grip tightens on her hips. Ezekiel pretends he didn’t see. 

Letting go of her hair, Ezekiel smirks at the group watching him. "You are all mine."

Fishing a sandwich bag out of his coat pocket, he throws it to the nearest person, who happens to be Nerida. To her surprise, the bag is filled with colour spheres, almost like gum balls.

"What the hell are these?" she asks, shaking the bag. Austin snatches them out of her hand.

"Something new." Nerida shivers at the dangerous edge to Ezekiel's tone. "Something I want everyone to try."

Nerida and Austin take one without hesitation, choosing their favourite colour and letting the sugary ball dissolve on their tongue. Only Alex and Cassie wait a moment before taking the drug. The last time they did something like this, Ezekiel had thrown a party, and they were the entertainment. No one really remembers that night, but the evidence all over their bodies painted a pretty clear picture of what went down while they could not fight back. The thought makes Cassie want to vomit, but she throws back a shot before taking the drug, all while under the stare of Ezekiel's watchful eyes. It is unnerving, not knowing what is going to happen, but Alex follows a second later. Two minutes later, there is no possible way they will ever remember what happened that night.

Ezekiel waits an extra few minutes, just to make sure the drug has had enough time to properly make its way into their bloodstream. He only moves when Cassie starts to sway on her feet, catching her before she collapses to the floor. Cassie goes pliant, the pressure on her shoulders guiding her to the floor softly and Ezekiel follows. Taking great care to not touch the bloody raised lines on her arm, he helps her remove her shirt, trailing his fingers over the soft skin of her right shoulder. Alex shuffles uncomfortably off to her right, eyebrows knitted together in curiosity. 

"Alex," Ezekiel says and he shutters. "Come here." 

Alex is at Ezekiel's side in a heartbeat, hands clenched into fists. "Yeah?" 

"She doesn't need to watch." 

Nodding, Alex sits cross-legged beside Cassie and slides his fingers in her hair, moving her head so she's no longer looking in Ezekiel's direction. Pushing her head with a bit more force when he sees her trying to watch Ezekiel, Cassie sighs and rests her face in his neck. The sizzle of metal heating up makes her body tense and Alex tightens his fingers. Once the metal glows red in his hand, Ezekiel hums in satisfaction and ducks his head, grinning. "Don't worry, Cassie, you'll lose feeling... eventually." 

Alex can't stop himself from watching as Ezekiel presses the artful piece of metal to Cassie's skin. Her scream is a secondary concern to Alex, who is transfixed by the way her skin bubbles and burns. Alex only tears his eyes away when he feels Cassie bite the tender skin of his neck. 

Later, when Ezekiel sees the bloody bite mark, he'll ask Austin to hold Alex down as he adds his own. Cassie isn't around to stop Ezekiel, and Austin will be so desperate for his next fix that he wouldn't dream of disobeying the man. The marks won’t heal for a week, not that anyone comments on them. Ezekiel has been known to get territorial over what he considers his. They’re free to do whatever they want, his only rule is that it doesn’t leave lasting marks. That’s his job. 

Cassie doesn't leave her room until her newest mark has healed. The disgust on her face when Ezekiel grabs her arm and licks the fresh cuts is unmistakable and a bruise are already starting to form on her jaw when Ezekiel walks away. They’re due to meet with Mr. Roosevelt in the next few days and Ezekiel must have kept that in mind because Cassie’s bruise is completely gone by the time he arrives. 

Oliver Roosevelt isn’t someone to make idle visits. He is a busy man who doesn't care for his nephew’s childish games. Ezekiel is an unknown variable, not because Oliver doesn't know where his loyalties lie, but because of his bipolar disorder. It causes him to suffer from extreme mood swings and that makes him unpredictable. Oliver would have preferred to just get rid of Ezekiel, but his sister would have been upset, and he has managed to establish control over Oliver’s little science project. As their leader, Ezekiel can ask them to do anything and they’ll follow. It would be a waste to kill Ezekiel and ruin everything he’s accomplished. 

The office Oliver claims in the manor is dusty and smells like old books. The chair is quickly removed and another one is put in its place. Settling down with a drink in his hand, Oliver opens his laptop and plans in getting some work done when he’s interrupted by loud knocking. If Heather wasn’t seriously overprotective of her son, Oliver would have long ago taught Ezekiel some manners, especially when in the company of the head of the family. Parading in without a care, Ezekiel drops into one of the chairs. 

Oliver doesn’t pay attention to his nephew, instead he watches the two people who stand on either side of Ezekiel’s chair. Cassidy Fitzgerald and Alex Hatford. Looking back in his memories, Oliver puts names to faces and grimaces. Cassidy was an anomaly in the system. She was never chipped when her ability first appeared at age eleven. No one caught the error until four years later, once she had already used enough magic to put her parents in debt a hundred times over. Cassidy owed the government millions of dollars, and when her parents couldn’t pay they chose to make an exchange instead: their child in exchange for the debt to be forgotten. As the third youngest child in a family of seven children, the Fitzgerald family didn’t have to think too long about their decision. 

Alex Hatford is a different story. He is Ezekiel’s cousin, but not from the Roosevelt side of the family. James Hatford managed to get himself disowned from the family at the age of seventeen. As the second oldest son, James left the family penniless and in love with the girl his brother was supposed to marry. Ten years after anyone’s heard anything about James Hatford, a young boy claiming to be his son shows up on Oliver’s doorstep. Presented with a wonderful opportunity, Oliver couldn’t pass it up. 

Now they’re both members of Oliver’s personal project, along with other pets he’s acquired along the way. The team is shaping up to be everything Oliver could have wanted and more. But there is always room for improvement. 

“I want to add another member to the team,” Oliver begins, catching Ezekiel’s attention by sliding a folder across his desk. Alex glances over Ezekiel’s shoulder to read, but Cassidy keeps her eyes on the floor. “Andrew Walker, born Andrew Minyard, is the adopted son of Stephanie Walker. It has been brought to our attention that he possesses a unique ability. Andrew is the only person we know of who has this ability and it would prove revolutionary to have on the team.” 

Paper clipped to one of the pages is a photo of a boy maybe fifteen years old. Messy blond hair, brown eyes locked in a blank stare. “What exactly is his ability?” Ezekiel asks, unimpressed. 

“According to our source, Andrew can see a physical manifestation of a person’s threat level through a number on their forehead. I don't think I have to tell you how valuable that ability could be.” 

Ezekiel huffs out a breath, slapping the folder closed. “And I'm guessing you want us to go get him.” 

“No, Mr. Walker is currently in a juvenile detention centre in California. Instead, I want you to find this man.” 

Oliver slides over another file. Ezekiel doesn't bother reaching for it, the name printed on the top tells him everything he needs to know. 

“Twins,” Cassie says breathlessly. 

Oliver nods. “Yes. And I'm sure now you understand why it’s so important we find Aaron Minyard.” 

“I don't understand,” Alex admits. “What's so important about them being twins?” 

“There is a ritual that can be performed that can bind twin’s souls together. They can share magic, but it comes with a price. Both twins would be able to feel each other’s pain. Even if Aaron doesn't have an ability, we can still use him to control Andrew.”

“I want you to find him and bring him back. As far as we know, Andrew doesn't know about his twin and I’d like to keep it that way,” Oliver says. “Everything you need to know about Aaron is in that file. I suggest you leave immediately.”

Ezekiel bows his head in some manner of politeness. Alex grabs the file off the desk, tucking it under his arm and following a few paces behind Ezekiel. Oliver has already turned back to his computer, but looks up again when he hears the chair creek as someone sits in it. Cassidy Fitzgerald doesn't break eye contact with Oliver. “Are you going to tell him?” 

If it were anyone else, Oliver would have had them shot by now. Very few people in the organization can talk to Oliver like Cassidy is now and get away with it. “I don’t see the point.” 

“His mother is dead. I think he deserves to know.” 

“And as the person who killed his mother, how do you think he’ll react to that information,” Oliver counters. Cassie’s fingers twitch at the reminder. “It doesn’t matter. Ezekiel hasn’t seen Annette in almost a decade. It’s unlikely that he’ll care.” The phone on his desk begins to ring, but Oliver barely blinks. “Is that everything, Miss Fitzgerald? Or would you like to continue to question my decisions?” 

Standing, Cassie holds out her hand and smiles when Oliver shakes it. “I’ll send you an update once we have Aaron in custody.”  


“Good.” 

Cassie leaves just as her phone rings. She lets the call go to voicemail and makes her way down to the first floor. Alex waits anxiously by the elevator door, phone in hand. “We’ll be flying to North Carolina. Everyone else is waiting on the plane,” Alex says, hesitating for a moment. “Ezekiel’s getting suspicious.” 

“Have you told him anything?” Cassie asks, scanning her ID card to open the door to the hanger. Ezekiel stands by the stairs of the plane talking with a pretty brunette. 

Alex’s shoulder length hair falls in his eyes from he hangs his head. “No, but he’s starting to ask questions. Cassie, you should be careful.” 

“I’ll be fine, Alex,” she promises, stopping in front of the woman Ezekiel is talking to. “Good morning Taylor, are you our pilot today?”

“Yeah, father had Loretta and Lynn fly down to Romania for the week. Francis went with them so you’re stuck with me,” she jokes, nudging Cassie’s shoulder. “You wanna sit up front with me? We still need to talk about what happened at Claira’s birthday party.” Ezekiel shoots her a glare when she says yes. Taylor sees the fire in his eyes and sighs. “Don’t worry cousin, I’ll give her back. I’m just bored since everyone is away on business. Even Nicholas is gone!” 

Alex is quick to follow Ezekiel on the plane when he storms off. Cassie and Taylor share a knowing look and make their way to the cockpit. “What does Oliver have him doing? He usually doesn't send Nicholas too far from home.” 

“He and Damien are at some conference in Italy. It's rumoured that Venus Hatford will be there. I don't think dad trusts Damien not to shoot her.” Cassie silently agrees that Oliver might have a point. About two years ago, Damien’s fiancée was killed during a riot in London. At least that’s what the official police report says. The truth is that Sonya found herself in the middle of a fire fight between the two families. Venus looked positively gleeful when she got to kill Sonya in front of Damien. There was nothing anyone could do. It’s a testament to Damien’s self-control that Venus isn't dead, but Oliver gave him strict orders not to kill her, at least not yet. “Nicholas couldn’t go without protection and everyone is busy. Not the best situation, but everything should be okay.” 

Nerida and Austin are already settled on the plane, chatting with a drink in hand. Alex found himself a nice seat away from the others, headphones plugged in and eyes closed. Ezekiel is nowhere to be seen, but that doesn’t surprise Cassie. There’s a bedroom in the back that Ezekiel likes to hide in. 

Reaching the cockpit, Cassie and Taylor take their seats. The nine-hour flight passes fairly quickly for Cassie. Taylor is great company, and Cassie reminds herself to talk with Taylor more once they return. Ezekiel doesn’t like it when any of them talk with people outside the group, but Taylor is family. Taylor seems to have an unspoken understanding that Cassie isn’t allowed to talk about somethings and just isn’t comfortable talking about others. They keep to safer topics, mostly about music and the latest movies. Taylor might be opinionated, but her arguments are factual and interesting. She imagines that Alex and Taylor would be unstoppable if they worked together. 

Soon, Taylor announces that they’ll be landing in half an hour and Cassie finds herself wishing they had longer to talk. It’s surprisingly nice to talk with someone who isn’t the same four people. While Taylor concentrates on landing, Cassie tries to imagine how their dynamic will change once they add Aaron to the team. It’s always been Cassie and Alex; Nerida and Austin. Throwing another person into the group could potentially fracture the delicate team they’ve manage to create. Aaron will not be happy when he finds out what he’s been recruited to do. It Aaron doesn’t learn his place quickly, that could mean trouble for everyone else. 

Taylor lands the plane without much trouble. Nodding to herself in satisfaction, she follows Cassie off the plane and sees them off. Cassie climbs into one of the cars and waits for Alex to get in the driver seat. They haven't even pulled out of the airport when Cassie reaches over and turns on the radio, scoffing when country music flows through the speakers. Flicking through the stations, Cassie settles on one playing the top forty. 

Two hours later the car pulls over, stopping on the side of the road, far enough that people won’t notice it. Ezekiel steps out of the car and surveys the building. Aaron Minyard’s house is actually a small two bedroom apartment. There’s no car in their parking spot, but Ezekiel can see a light on. Glancing down at his phone, he surmises that it’s the kitchen from the blueprint that Maggie sent him earlier. “Are we sure he’s home?” 

“Unless it’s to go to school, Aaron rarely leaves his house. We got a copy of his mother’s work schedule and she should be at work for at least another two hours. But by then we’ll be up in the air,” Nerida says, one headphone dangling from her ear. “It’s a bit overkill to bring everyone. Aaron spends most of his time drugged out of his mind and won’t put up much of a fight. Honestly, this could have been a solo mission.” 

“Did I ask for your opinion?” Ezekiel snaps, swiping his hair out of his eyes. “I don’t care how easy the mission sounds, we cannot fail. Austin, I need you to get us inside. Cassie, go with him to make sure there are no surprises. Nerida will enter first and find Aaron; you’ll need to get out quickly. After I light the fire, we’ll only have a couple minutes until people notice something is wrong.” 

For a Saturday afternoon, the building is surprisingly quiet and empty. They don't run into a single soul while they make their way up to the third floor, apartment 317. Austin quickly gets to work once Cassie has given the okay, picking the lock in a few seconds. The door swings opens slow and silent. Nerida enters first, heading into the living room and stopping at the threshold. There’s a lump of blankets on the couch, and Nerida only realzies that someone is actually under there when she turns on the light and there’s a groan. 

“Who the fuck are you?” They sneer from under the pile. Nerida shares a look of confusion with Austin, utterly in disbelief that this is the man they’ve been sent to get. Ezekiel moves to check out the rest of the house, telling Austin to stand guard. A head of blond hair pokes out from under the blankets, only revealing their glossy brown eyes. Aaron Minyard is a pathetic excuse of a human. 

“Nerida, if you please.”

Extending her hand, Nerida splays her fingers and the body under the blankets groans again. The air around Aaron shimmers and Nerida grins as she watches Aaron try to move, fighting against her mind. Nerida motions Cassie forward, counting the seconds until her eyes start to water and her hand twitches. Once Aaron Minyard is handcuffed and gagged, Nerida nods at Austin and he goes to find Ezekiel. 

Together, Cassie and Nerida get Aaron to his feet. His pale chest is on display without a shirt and Nerida fantasizes about trailing her mouth over the tattoos that cover his chest and upper arms. They’re beautiful works of art that must have cost a fortune. Nerida notes that there’s no single picture, but instead his skin is covered in millions of colours, swirling and twisting together. 

Aaron makes a valiant effort but he can't escape from the cuffs no matter how much he struggles. The two girls leading him out of the building share a brief glance before turning toward the apartments, and Aaron’s eyes widen when he smells smoke. There’s a black SUV parked across the street with a young man leaning against it. Once he catches sight of Aaron and the girls, he jumps to open the side door and closes it behind Aaron once he’s been helped into a seat. The same guy gets into the driver seat while the black haired girl gets in the passenger side. The other girl with blonde hair heads back towards the building, which now has smoke spewing from the windows of his apartment. 

Hanging his head, Aaron can’t even ask what's going to happen to him thanks to that gag in his mouth. It’s completely unnecessary and it’s starting to make him drool. The scenery they pass is familiar and it doesn’t take long for him to guess where they’re going. The local airport is nothing more than a small building and a long runway. A sleek, white jet sits on the runway and the car pulls up right beside the plane. A third girl descends the stairs of the plane, walking over to the driver side of the car. The guy rolls down the window, resting his arms on the door. 

“Where’s Austin, Ezekiel and Nerida?” She asks, slipping the guy a key card. 

Pocketing the key card in his jacket, he unlocks the door, waiting until the girl steps back to open it. “In the other car. They were right behind us.” 

Nodding, the girl returns to the plane while the remaining girl and the guy get Aaron out of the car and on the plane. Bypassing the seats, a door at the end of the hallway is opened and reveals a decent size bedroom, large enough for a queen size bed and a couch. Aaron is pushed towards the bed until his knees hit the edge and he falls on his stomach. Soft hands run over his shoulders, massaging and kneading the muscles. Snarling into the sheet, Aaron roles over so he can glare at the girl. 

“Here, let me get that,” the guy says, reaching over slowly to unbuckle the gag. Aaron barely has time to understand what's happening before the girl is forcing herself on his lap, settling her hand on his chest. 

“There beautiful,” she whispers, tracing the colourful mess on his skin. 

Rolling his eyes, the guy places a hand on the girl’s shoulder. She flinches. “Cassie, you know Ezekiel wouldn’t approve, not while he’s gone.” 

Pushing her hair out of her face, Cassie smiles innocently. “It’s okay, Alex, I'm only looking. Ezekiel will let us have our fun once he and Mr. Roosevelt are finished. Until then…” Reaching into the pocket of her pants, she pulls out a pill bottle and shakes one of them out into the palm of her hand. With her other hand, Cassie grips Aaron’s jaw and pries it open. Aaron fights back the urge to swallow when she drops the pill in his mouth, but soon must choose between swallow the pill or suffocating when Cassie blocks his nose and mouth. There’s nothing he can do and is forced to swallow the mystery pill. Instantly, Aaron begins to feel the effects of whatever they gave him. Cassie removes herself from Aaron after pressing the lightest of kisses to his lips. 

In a few minutes, Alex and Cassie stand in front of an unconscious Aaron, wondering how this guy will ever survive on their team. 

 

~

 

When Aaron opens his eyes again, he’s alone in a bedroom. He feels well rested and energized after sleeping for an indeterminable amount of time. It’s strange how calm and relaxed he feels considering what has happened. It’s with that thought that Aaron’s entire body tenses. He’s been kidnapped. Holy shit. 

He’s given another minute alone to contemplate his situation before the door opens, revealing the guy from earlier, Alex. “Oh, you’re awake.” There’s something in his tone that sends Aaron’s heart racing. The boy sounds broken and defeated. “Can you stand?” 

Honestly, Aaron doesn't even know if he can move his finger let alone his whole body. Everything feels numb and disconnected, like his body isn't under his control. Alex doesn’t look annoyed when Aaron doesn’t answer and helps the younger boy to his feet. Now that he’s standing and moving around, he takes the time to look at the boy. Brown hair, green eyes, average build, nothing special. He’s someone you could see in a crowd and forget a second later, but maybe that’s the point.

Alex holds the door open for Aaron, steadying him when he trips over his own feet. Aaron doesn’t recognize the scenery he catches a glimpse of as they pass a window. Its most just open fields and small hills, nothing that could help him figure out where he is. He thinks about asking, but doesn't get the chance before their stopping in front of a large pair of doors. “He’s waiting just inside.” 

Aaron might not understand what's happening, but he knows that the only way he’ll be getting any answers is by going through that door. The door opens smoothly and Aaron peeks inside. It looks like a formal living room with only a couch and two chairs. It isn't until he’s entered the room that he realizes that there is someone else in the room. Standing in the far corner, an older man levels Aaron with a stern look.

“Kneel,” the man orders, leaning heavily on his cane. Someone surprises Aaron by kicking his feet out from under him, sending him to his knees quickly and without giving Aaron time to move. A younger man with red hair and a murderous gleam in his eyes steps around Aaron and stops beside the man. “Ezekiel, I hope you appreciate your present. He’ll be a valuable asset.” 

Tilting his head from side to side, eyeing Aaron, Ezekiel says, “Of course, uncle.” 

“But first he needs to understand a few things.” The cane comes down with lightning speed, snapping Aaron’s face to the side. Blood fills his mouth and makes him choke. Logically, Aaron knows he should be in an incredible amount of pain. He feels the impact of the cane; hitting his arms, chest, stomach, head, but there’s no pain. Something's wrong, but his limbs continue to be uncooperative and his voice refuses to work. 

The man doesn’t stop until his nephew’s smile turns bored, like he’s finished waiting patiently for his turn. The man, this Mr. Roosevelt - Aaron remembers that girl Cassie saying that name earlier -, takes a seat on the leather couch and drops a piece of paper on the floor. “Ezekiel, I want that paper signed and returned by tomorrow afternoon. I don't care what you have to do, just get it done.” 

Aaron’s understanding of the situation might be limited to absolutely nothing, but a feeling in his stomach tells him if he signs that paper he’ll never leave this place. Trying to keep that foremost thought from vanishing, Aaron lets his eyes slide close and welcomes the quietness of unconsciousness.


	3. Chapter Three

There's a pile of letters on the nightstand, sealed and untouched. The same name is neatly written on the front of all of them, addressed to the same place. It was a coping mechanism their therapist recommended, a helpful way to cope with the distance. Its supposed to help even if the person they’re intended for never reads them. It’s a way to help the people feel less lonely. Which is an insane because Renee's not alone, not really. Just down the stairs is a loving mother who would happily drop everything to comfort their child. 

The calendar hanging on the wall has the 22nd circled, just three days away. In three days, that’ll mean it’s been eight hundred and seventeen days since she’s seen Andrew. That thought causes her stomach to twist in anger. Anger at Andrew for stealing that car, anger at Stephanie for not trying harder to keep Andrew out of jail, and anger at herself for not keeping a closer eye on Andrew that night. If she wanted to, she could list all the signs that Andrew was going to do something stupid. But she doesn’t torture herself by thinking about it. Instead, she focuses on the painting she’s been working on for the last week. 

The next few days are some of the worst she can remember in a long time. Even though it’s the middle of the week, she cannot convince herself that leaving her bed is a good idea. Stephanie prompts her to take a bath and change her clothes, understanding that she needs some time to come to terms with what's going to happen. Andrew will return and everything will change. 

The police station is nearly empty when they arrive. Stephanie signs some papers and an officer goes to get Andrew. Renee knows objectively that the Andrew she knew two years ago wouldn't be the same one she meets today. Too much time has passed for either of them to be the same person they were that night in the hospital room. Safely tucked away from the world, it was easy to pretend nothing was wrong and that everything was going to be okay. Renee only wishes she had more time to talk to Andrew before he was sentenced. 

A shrill noise fills the silence as the sliding door opens, revealing Andrew. He’s wearing loose cotton pants and a black t-shirt. There’s no emotion on his face, even when he finally looks at Stephanie and Renee. There's nothing that Renee can do. The Andrew she knew is buried under layers of aggression and apathy. Or at least that's what the reports tell her. There were at least nine separate instances where Andrew ended up in a physical fight with someone. He was labeled aggressive, apathic and uncooperative a few days after his arrival. 

Since Stephanie has already signed Andrew’s release papers, they’re free to leave. None of them want to spend more time in the police station than strictly necessary, and they’re soon leaving. It’s a quiet drive home. Renee wants to talk to Andrew, but she knows that he wouldn’t appreciate an audience, even if it is only Stephanie. 

Pulling into the driveway, Andrew steps out of the car and takes a moment to feel the pleasant afternoon sun against his face. The front door opens silently and he walks inside. It feels alien to him even though everything is how he remembers it. The creamy colour of the front entrance hasn't changed. There's still the discolouration from where Stephanie had to repaint because Renee thought is would be a good idea to put her fist through the plaster and break her hand. Walking into the living room next, there’s a collection of paintings on the living room wall that wasn't there before. Andrew’s gaze swiftly passes over the artwork as to appear indifferent, but he notices the name written on the bottom corner. Something in the back of his mind alights, but sizzles out quickly, leaving him feeling empty and tired. 

“Your room is still across from Renee’s.” Stephanie stands off to the side. They keep their distance from Andrew, acting as if he’s a wild animal they’re afraid to scare away. It’s a fitting metaphor, he thinks. Andrew reminds himself of Renee that day Stephane took them home for the first time, hand on the door ready to bolt. 

Having had enough of their misplaced concern and unwanted affection, Andrew makes it to the top of the stairs when Renee speaks. 

“Andrew,” she calls out, stopping at the bottom of the stairs. “I still want to make that deal.” 

If events had turned out differently, Andrew might have agreed, but instead something dark and angry unexpectedly simmers in his stomach. “No.” 

Clutching her necklace between her hands, Renee doesn't try to chase after Andrew. Tomorrow is another day. Even if it takes weeks, months, years, Renee won’t abandon Andrew. 

~

The first day back at school and everyone keeps sending fearful looks in Andrew’s direction. Everyone must know where Andrew's spent the last two years and the reasons why. Renee sends everyone a polite smile, but Andrew can read the underlining tension in her shoulders. She’s angry. That’s interesting. Renee doesn't have a reason to be angry, it was Andrew’s actions and his alone that ended with him being arrested. He’ll talk to her later, maybe. 

Renee leads them to a table near the front of the cafeteria. Three of the six chairs are occupied, and Andrew recognizes Dan and Matt. They welcome Renee with a complicated handshake and the girl Andrew doesn't recognize holds out a paper bag that Renee takes. It takes a moment for anyone to realize they have an extra person. 

"Andrew," Dan says, eyes flickering over to Renee. She looks unsure about the situation. "I didn't realize you were back." 

"This is his first day back," Renee says brightly. "I was hoping to show him the new art room. The school finally got the funding and we now have a room bigger than a closet." 

"Of course." Matt smiles from his seat beside Dan, while the girl on Dan’s other side shakes her head. "My offer hasn't changed; you're always welcomed at the art club." 

"Are we sure that's safe?" the other girl asks, straightening out her dress. "He did just get out of jail." 

"Allison, please," Renee mutters. 

"I understand he's your brother, Renee, but seriously, he almost killed someone!" 

Allison jumps in surprise when an apple lands on her plate, sending mashed potatoes flying everywhere. Sighing softly, Renee helps Allison pick food out of her hair. Andrew continues eating his sandwich passively, unaffected by the glare Allison is sending him. 

Matt flicks a piece of corn off his shirt, leaning forward on his elbows. “So does that mean you’re coming?” 

He doesn’t bother responding, but Andrew stands with the rest of the group and follows them to the back of the school, near the boiler room. Andrew is pretty sure his bedroom is bigger than the new art room but Renee is right, it is bigger than the last one. Nobody wastes time showing Andrew around, instead they settle into their routine and work around each other. Dan sits cross-legged on the floor, picking up an abandoned sketchbook and some coloured pencils. Matt sits beside her, reaching into his school bag and pulling out a set of knitting needles and six different colors of yarn. 

Allison’s work station is the biggest. It’s a folding desk that takes up the entire north wall. There’s a stack of sketchbooks on the floor and pieces of fabric cover her station. Renee complements her latest design as she passes, walking over to a set of chairs. They’re comfortable enough, Andrew thinks, settling down beside Renee. There’s a couple paintings leaning against the wall that are similar to the ones hanging on the living room wall of their house, but Renee reaches for a messy sketch of someone’s face. 

“Abby suggested I should expand my horizon. I thought drawing people would be cool, but I’ve learned that I'm not very good at it,” Renee laughs. Dan calls over some encouragement, saying that her illustration of Captain Jack Sparrow is the best she’s ever seen. Renee frowns and replies that it was supposed to be Allison. Matt’s boisterous laugh drowns out Allison’s shriek of offence. Not for the first time, Andrew wishes he was in a quiet place, like the library. Hardly anyone goes to the school library. And the librarian always gives Andrew some chocolate when he leaves. 

“You know, Coach was saying something about an art show for students being set up at the college. Maybe we could send a few pieces,” Matt suggests randomly, frowning down at his project. “Dan, how do you end up with thirty-four stitches if you started with fifteen?” 

At Andrew’s raised eyebrow, Renee elaborates. “Coach still oversees the club, along with Abby. The school doesn't have enough money to hire an actual art teacher.” 

“Why do you call him Coach?” Allison asks, pointing her pencil at Renee. “He’s not your Coach.” 

“Everyone calls him Coach,” Dan says with a shrug. “Mr. Wymack just sounds stupid.” 

“Annnnnnyway.” Matt redirects the topic back to their earlier conversation. “Like, Allison could send some of her designs, and Renee could send some of her paintings.” 

“Sounds like fun,” Dan agrees, “but we’ll have to get permission from Coach and Abby.” 

The lunch period is criminally short. Dan makes sure to complain loudly as she cleans up her supplies and makes her way to her next class. Which, apparently, is taught by the spawn of the Devil himself. Renee offers to walk Andrew to class since she has a free period. The gym is just as crowded as it usually is and Renee leaves with a wish of good luck. 

Gym class – a.k.a. hell – is divided into three groups. There is the athletic people. The people who suck at sports, but still try. And finally there’s Andrew. The only reason he shows up is because Stephanie will ask why he’s not going to class, and that is the type of conversation Andrew hopes to avoid. Mrs. Pearson, a young, cheerful woman, has spent the better part of Andrew’s time at the school trying to encourage him to take part in sports. She’s suggested soccer, football, even golf. Walking into her gym class, Andrew prays that she’s forgotten him. Unfortunately, he’s not that lucky. 

The guys changing room smells exactly as you’d expect. Body odour and testosterone, with a not so subtle hint of cologne. After Mrs. Pearson’s taken attendance, Andrew walks out in the middle of her explanation of soccer-baseball. The changing room is empty and quiet, though next time he’ll have to bring an air freshener. He spends the majority of the period stowed away in the changing room. It isn't until the last few minutes of class that the urge to use the bathroom becomes too great, and he curses whoever designed the changing room and didn’t put a connecting bathroom. 

Returning to the changing room to grab his book, Andrew didn’t expect anyone to still be using the room. The bell had just rang and most people would be heading to their fifth period class. Rounding the corner, Andrew comes face-to-face with a shirtless Matt. This is the first time that Andrew has been alone with Matt since he return. Before Matt can do anything more than blink in surprise, Andrew asks, “What happened to your chest?” 

Looking down, it takes Matt a moment to understand what Andrew is asking about. “Oh, that.” He runs his fingers over the four-inch scar that runs vertically over his ribs. “Implant scar.” Andrew stares at the scar a beat longer than he intends to, and Matt misinterprets his staring for pity. “It’s fine, doesn’t even hurt anymore.” 

Nodding, Andrew gathers his clothes and goes to change in one of the stalls. Removing his shirt, Andrew looks at his own body and imagines the same scar decorating his skin. An implant scar. It’s always lingered in the back of his mind that his skin is smooth and perfect, not a single scar on his body. The government is notoriously bad at chipping children in the foster care system. It’s the responsibility of the parent to get their child chipped if they ever develop magic. Children whose magic has already presented itself tend to stay in the system. Parents just see it as one more unnecessary bill to pay.

Andrew wonders if Stephanie would have adopted Andrew if he was chipped. But that doesn't really matter because Andrew is unchipped and he intends to keep it that way. 

Changing out of his gym clothes, Andrew checks his phone and realizes he has less than a minute to get to his next class. Thankfully, Matt is gone by the time Andrew leaves and he enjoys a peaceful walk to his next class. It’s only down the hall, but Andrew still only beats the bell by a few seconds. Andrew notices Matt and Dan sitting near the back and walks over.

“Good morning everyone,” Mrs. LeMay greets the class, turning on the projector. Andrew takes a seat alone in the row behind Matt and Dan, resting his head on his folded arms. “Today we’ll be talking about the M.I.A., or the Magical Identification Act of 1959. As many of you know, Darrel Hatford invented a microchip that could track how much magic a person uses.” A photo of Darrel Hatford appears on the projector, displaying on the wall. “It was revolutionary, and the governments of the world were quick to accept this new technology. BY 1965, everyone with an affinity for magic was chipped and a special tax was created called the Magica Tax. Does anyone know how much this tax is?” 

Mable Copeland doesn’t even bother to raise her hand. “Simple spells are ten units or fifty cents. Advance spells are one hundred units or ten dollars. And banished spells, although illegal, if used result in a one million dollar fine and jail time. People who can’t do spells, but instead have a specialized ability are taxed differently. For every minute they use their ability, they’re taxed fifty units.” 

“Correct, Mable,” Mrs. LeMay praises. “And you’ve brought us to our next topic of discussion: the difference between people with magic and people with an ability. People who can use magic are able to perform spells. They can heat a pot of water with a few words or levitate a book. But people with an ability are special. They cannot do spells, but they can do magic. People with an ability can do one specific thing that is very powerful. Some examples are emotional manipulation, talking to the dead, enhanced senses, and omnilingualism. There isn’t a spell that allows you to do that. It’s truly remarkable.” Surprised by his teacher's tone, Andrew finally looks up and listens to what Mrs. LeMay is saying. “But, unfortunately, not everyone was happy about the Magica Tax.” 

“I remember Mr. Connors telling us about the fighting and the protests,” Tamer says, flipping through his textbook. “A lot of people died.” 

Mrs. LeMay nods sadly, changing the photo. It’s a moment frozen in time, and Andrew can see people mid-shout with their signs in the air. “Yes, a lot of people were angry. People who could use magic were angry because they thought the tax was unfair. There was fighting between the two sides and people did die. One of the more significant deaths was Darrel Hatford himself. He was assassinated four months after the microchips were announced.”

“But what about the theory that the microchips actually record all your conversations and track your movements?” Camden asks, chewing on his bottom lip. 

“Camden, that is literally the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Charlie responds, rolling her eyes. “That's just a conspiracy theory. Only crazy people actually believe that.” 

“Hey!” Camden shouts. “My dad believes it!” 

“Like I said, crazy people!” 

“Charlie,” Mrs. LeMay says sternly. Ducking her head in embarrassment, Charlie mumbles an apology. “But Camden, in all seriousness, the chips only monitor how much magic a person uses. Nothing else. Nobody is tracking your movements or recording your conversations. Governments aren't allowed to do that.” 

Crossing his arms, Camden doesn't look like he believes her, but doesn't bring it up again. For the rest of the class they talk about specifics of the M.I.A. Andrew watches Matt discretely, wondering if the topic bothers him. Matt is the only person Andrew knows who can use magic. About one-third of the population can use magic in one way or another. Mrs. LeMay ends the lesson by reminding them of their project due at the end of the week and that everyone needs to bring in their completed family tree because they’ll be talking about the H.S.A tomorrow.

Only one more class, Andrew thinks as he leaves the classroom first, stopping quickly at his locker to grab his English textbook. It’s his favourite class of the day, mainly because nobody from the art club shares it with him. The hallway is crowded as other students rush to their classes and Andrew almost misses the person leaning against the wall, watching the steady stream of people. There’s nothing particularly suspicious about the person and Andrew only notices them because he happens to look up at the right moment. At first, Andrew doesn’t understand what's sent his heart racing because he’s learned to ignore his one advantage since school is a safe place. 

There will be time later for Andrew to contemplate his stupidity, but at that moment he needs to find Renee and get out. As if the person can feel Andrew’s eyes on them, they turn, and he gets an unobstructed view of the reason he feels fear: a black eight on their forehead. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the shorter chapter. Also, is anyone wondering where Kevin is because I'm wondering the same thing. Honestly, I'm pretty sure I just forgot about his entire existence while writing this chapter. But don't worry, I have it figured out and we'll see him in later chapters. Hope you enjoyed! Don't forget to comment and kudos. The support has been amazing.


	4. Chapter Four

“Come on, Aaron. I promise this will all be over as soon as you tell me your ability.” Ezekiel’s voice is like liquid honey, sweet and tempting. The image that forms in Aaron’s mind shatters when he catches sight of the knife in Ezekiel’s hand. It’s been days, maybe weeks, since Aaron has left their shared room. His wrists are bruised and bloody, and his body isn’t in much better shape. Ezekiel likes to spend hours carving into Aaron, mainly because he wants to learn Aaron’s ability, but a part of Aaron believes that Ezekiel is doing this because he enjoys it. Enjoys watching Aaron’s body react as he slices and burns. 

It’s only for a few hours each day, because Ezekiel does have duties that need to be completed, but the time they spend together seems to stretch on for eternity. There’s a few seconds of peace between when Ezekiel leaves and when Alex arrives. It seems that Alex was the unlucky soul who was chosen to clean Aaron’s wounds and make sure he doesn’t die. Alex has the grace to look guilty as he unlocks the handcuffs around Aaron's wrist, careful not to touch him as he wipes away most of the blood. 

"You know, this will all stop if you just tell Ezekiel your ability," Alex mutters, cleaning the largest of the cuts on Aaron's chest. He barely reacts to the pain because he cannot distinguish between the new pain and the old pain. Everything hurts and he’s learned to ignore it, just like how he's learned to ignore Alex's presence. For the most part. 

"Why? So he can find another reason to torture me?" Aaron scoffs. "Fuck off." 

"He's only doing this because his uncle won't give us another mission until he can learn your ability. Of course we have a file on you, but Mr. Roosevelt won't give us access." None of Aaron’s other injuries put him in danger of dying and Alex goes to wash his hands, letting Aaron bandage his wounds alone. "He's desperate. Your life here will be much better if you just tell Ezekiel." 

Fingers numb, Aaron pokes at the puncture marks on his chest. He’ll need to see the rest of the damage for himself eventually, but that means moving and Aaron barely has the energy to keep his eyes open. "Are you so damaged that you actually believe that? Has Ezekiel fucked up your mind so much that you think your life here is fine?" 

There’s still blood under his fingernails when Alex exits the bathroom. "No." Confident that Aaron can take care of himself, Alex heads for the door. "But it won't matter for much longer."

“Why not?”

Looking over his shoulder, Alex meets Aaron’s gaze. “Because Ezekiel will no longer have control over me.” 

 

~

 

Alex knows better than to think this group meeting will be anything besides an excuse for Ezekiel to release his pent-up anger. It’s been seventeen days since Aaron arrived and Oliver continues to deny Ezekiel the privilege to go out on missions. Every day, when Alex enters Ezekiel’s room and sees Aaron slowly losing his fortitude, he begins to worry that one day Ezekiel will take things too far. 

Leaning against the wall, Alex watches as everyone arrives. Nerida and Austin look wholly unconcerned, snuggling together on one of the couches. Cassie seems to have followed the same path of logic that Alex did because she sits away from everyone else. Lastly to end, surprising to nobody, is Ezekiel. His hands twitch as the hang loosely at his side. 

“Any news?” Ezekiel asks sarcastically, clearly not expecting anyone to have anything to say. 

“It's ink manipulation.” Alex doesn’t know how Ezekiel will react to the knowledge that he’s managed to learn Aaron’s ability when Ezekiel couldn’t. It could result in a lot of things; many that first come to Alex’s mind involves pain. “Aaron has the ability to manipulate ink. Which makes sense considering his tattoos. He always has ammunition.” 

“Ink manipulation?” Nerida echoes. “That sounds so cool.” 

“I don’t care if he can turn lead into gold. All that matters is that we can finally return to missions,” Ezekiel says, looking almost happy. Any trace of his earlier anger gone. “Uncle Oliver will be pleased that we can finally proceed with step two.” When Ezekiel begins muttering to himself, Alex turns his focus away from their leader and towards the girl sitting on the edge of the group. 

Cassie doesn’t waste any time asking Alex how he got the information from Aaron. They discussed beforehand the best way to get Aaron to cooperate. The second phase of Ezekiel’s plan will leave Aaron mentally damaged. If Cassie and Alex want their own plan to work, they’ll need Aaron to have complete control of his mind. 

“I’m worried about Ezekiel’s reaction,” he admits. Ezekiel now has his phone out, talking in a language Alex can’t be bother to identify. Collectively, the five of them know ten different languages. Aaron might be able to add another one or two to the list, but they have most of the major languages covered. 

Fixing her ponytail, Cassie keeps her eyes straight ahead but Alex knows she’s listening to what Ezekiel is saying. “You worry too much.” 

“For good reason.” 

Before Cassie can reply, Ezekiel is announcing that he’s meeting with his uncle in an hour, most likely to be given a new mission. As always, Cassie and Alex are asked to accompany Ezekiel to this meeting, meaning the rest of their conversation will have to wait. 

 

~

 

The air inside the plane is stale. Nerida and Austin don’t seem to care as they guide Aaron to his seat near the front. There’s a fold down tray attached to the seat in front of Aaron that Nerida unfolds and places a stack of files on. After putting away her bag, she excuses herself and heads towards the cockpit. 

"Why are we kidnapping someone?" Aaron asks, flipping through the files Nerida left on the table. It’s been three weeks since he told Alex his ability. Nineteen days ago, everyone watched as Ezekiel forced a pill down Aaron's throat, choking him until he swallowed. Ezekiel kept his fingers around Aaron's throat afterwards, not choking him but just resting them there. Even though they’ve seen the effects of the pill countless times, that doesn't make it any less unsettling. When they went downstairs for breakfast the next morning, Aaron started chatting with Austin, as if they’d been friends for years. His face was distorted in a smile that looked painful. He appeared peacefully calm when Ezekiel trailed his fingers over his shoulder and asked if they could talk privately; as if he hadn’t just spend weeks torturing Aaron. 

Its remarkable how easily Aaron has integrated into the group now that he's medicated. 

"Because her father wants to abolish the Magica Tax. We're just trying to... encourage him to change his mind," Austin explains with a grin. "We can't afford to have someone with those kind of thoughts in a position of power." 

Nodding, Aaron looks at the photo of the girl attached to the file. Early teens, blonde hair, milky-blue eyes. Nearing the end of the file, things start to get interesting. Apparently, the girl's ability presented at the age of nine. Two years later her mother went to jail for permanently blinding the girl because she was costing them millions of dollars. The girl can read people's auras and wasn't allowed to leave the house. The police say she has no control over her ability, it’s always present. Well, it’s no wonder why her father hates the Magica tax. It’s a shame that they're mission is to kidnap the girl. 

It might be Aaron's second time on a plane, but that doesn't mean much when he was unconscious for the first trip. Moving over so he's sitting by the window, he follows Alex's example and digs his headphones out of his bag. Leaning back in his chair, Aaron closes his eyes and lets the music wash over him and calm his shaking hands. A voice over the intercom informs everyone that there flight will take just over six hours, and to sit back and relax. Unlikely to happen, but Aaron tries to get some much needed sleep. 

A couple hours into the flight, Aaron wakes up to people mumbling around him. Without opening his eyes, he listens and hears them discussing which one of them should wake Aaron up. Nerida volunteers Cassie, but Alex shoots down that idea and volunteers himself. Which makes sense considering Alex has woken up Aaron numeral times while he was in Ezekiel's oh so tender care. But before anyone can get close to Aaron he opens his eyes and Nerida sighs in disappointment. 

“Ezekiel wants to discuss the plan,” Austin says, handing Aaron a water bottle. 

The plane has one bedroom near the back and it’s no surprise that Ezekiel gets the space all to himself. Aaron remembers the room vaguely from his first time on the plane. Cassie and Nerida take the couch, and Alex leans against the wall stoically. Austin perches on the armrest of the couch, leaning against Nerida’s shoulder. Aaron doesn’t know where to situate himself when Ezekiel clears his throat. 

“I’m glad collectively you could figure out how to wake up one person,” Ezekiel says dryly. “The plan will go as followed: Alex, Austin, Nerida and Aaron, your job is to get Nikita out of the house without anyone noticing. I don’t care how you do it, just get it done. Cassie, you’ll be with me. I have an errand that you’re going to help me with. We shouldn't take too long. As soon as Cassie and I are finished, we’ll join you, but we won’t offer any help. I want to see how you four work together.” 

“The plan seems very… unstructured,” Nerida comments. 

Ezekiel crosses his arms. “That's the point.” 

“Well, I am excited,” Austin laughs. “I finally get to put my superb planning skills to use.” 

Ezekiel dismisses them soon after and the pilot announces that they’ll be landing in twenty minutes. There’s two vehicles waiting for them when they depart the plane. Nerida, Austin, Alex and Aaron get in the van, while Cassie and Ezekiel take the car. Alex catches Cassie before she gets in the car with Ezekiel, whispering something in her ear, and only lets her go when she nods. Aaron wants to ask what that was about, but keeps his mouth shut, sliding into the seat beside Austin. 

Pulling up to the Douglas residence, Alex parks the van four houses away. As they pile out of the van, the street lights turn on. “So, what is the plan?” Nerida asks, helping Aaron put on his bulletproof vest. It’s possible that they’ll be going up against regular people without abilities, and those people typically have guns. 

“Get inside and find Nikita. If we happen to encounter anyone, take them out,” Austin offers. Alex doesn’t immediately shoot down the idea and Austin fist pumps the air. “I told you my planning skills are amazing.” 

“Like Austin said, we’re here for the girl. There shouldn’t be too many people in the house, but we can’t afford to become sloppy. Stay alert and don’t get injured.” 

Using the trees as cover, Nerida goes first and tests the windows in case one of them is unlocked. After trying all the windows on the first floor and reporting that they’re all locked, Alex sends out Austin to pick the lock on the back door. According to Ezekiel’s source, Nikita's bedroom is on the second floor, near the front of the house. As long as everything goes smoothly, they should be out in twenty minutes. 

It takes Austin just under two minutes to get the door unlocked and they find themselves in the kitchen. Having memorized the blueprints of the house, Aaron takes the lead. Aaron wonders if they’re walking into a trap when they reach the girl's room without seeing anyone. They know Mr. Douglas is away in Berlin for the weekend, but from their research they know Nikita is never left alone while her father is gone. Aaron and Nerida share a skeptical look while Austin goes to unlock the door. Just as Austin gets the door unlocked, another door opens and lights spills into the hallway. In the doorway of the bathroom, an older woman stares at them, clutching a baseball bat in her hand. Before the women can move a step, Nerida rushes forward, slitting the poor woman’s throat. 

Aaron expects himself to feel disgust towards Nerida’s actions, but it seems his time with the team has damaged him morally because he doesn’t feel much of anything as he stares at the body. Austin continues as if he wasn’t interrupted, motioning for Nerida to turn off the bathroom light and quietly opens the door. As they approach the bed, Nerida hands Alex a syringe, showing him where to inject the girl by gesturing to her own neck. 

Standing out of the way, Aaron watches as Nerida and Austin hold down the girl’s arms while Alex injects her with a clear liquid. The drug should take effect in a few minutes, rendering the girl drowsy and cooperative. Alex motions for Aaron to come forward, and Aaron hoists the girl up over his shoulder. Everything seems to be going smoothly until the girl catches sight of her caretaker lying dead in the hallway. 

“Ashley!” The girl screams, fighting against Aaron’s hold. She continues to scream as Austin helps him carry her out to the car. Nerida has the door unlocked and open, providing additional help getting the struggling girl inside. For someone who can’t see, she puts up quite a fight. Once they’ve gotten her inside the van, Aaron tenses when he smells smoke. It reminds him too much of the day he was taken and something in his mind cracks. Before everything was foggy and quiet, like he was wrapped in a blanket with his head full of cotton. Aaron doesn’t understand why he just helped kidnap a girl. Something is seriously wrong with his head. Just as he’s about to bolt in the other direction, Austin turns and sees the wild look of clarity in his eyes. 

“Shit,” he curses, slamming the sliding door closed. “Nerida, we have a problem!” 

Before Aaron can move a finger, strong arms wrap around his arms, locking them in place. Aaron chokes on the smell of mint and sweat, a scent that is so unmistakably Alex. A hand comes into view - one covered in scars - and grips Aaron’s jaw, forcing his mouth open. Someone places a pill on his tongue and it dissolves in a couple seconds. Once Alex gets a nod of satisfaction from Nerida, he releases Aaron and backs away. If he hadn’t caught himself against the van, Aaron would have fallen to the pavement. His skin feels too warm and three sizes too small. He recognizes the harsh panting he hears as his own and he blinks tears away. “What are you doing to me?” 

“Just making you more agreeable,” Alex answers. “Ezekiel is, rightfully, worried that you’ll try to escape if we take you off the pills. From what I just saw I have to agree with him. You need more time.” 

Groaning as his stomach pulses in pain, Aaron says, “You say there’s nothing wrong with you, but I don’t believe you. One minute you’re talking about escaping this place, but then you turn around and carry out his orders like a good little bitch.” 

“It might be too late to save you, but I can save other people.”

“Like who?” Aaron is struggling to stay upright, his limbs are tired and weak, but he needs to understand. 

“It’s time you talk with Oliver Roosevelt. Ask for your file, then you’ll understand.” 

Leaving Aaron alone with his thoughts, Alex goes around to the other side and opens the door, waiting for Aaron to gather whatever strength he has left to get his ass in the van. When five minutes pass, Alex wonders if he’s passed out, but soon Aaron’s stumbling towards Alex. The medication must be hitting him harder than usual because the poor guy has never reacted this strongly before. Taking pity, Alex helps Aaron into the van and condemns Austin to the back, letting him lie down on his side. “Sorry Aaron, but I’m going to have to cuff you. I don't entirely trust you not to try to make a break for it.” 

It’s awkward to get the cuffs on Aaron, but they’re soon on their way, twenty minutes from the airport where they’re meeting up with Ezekiel and Cassie. 

It’s not even five minutes into the trip when Austin speaks up. “Maybe Ezekiel will let us have some fun with her?” Austin asks hopefully, running his fingers through the girl’s blonde hair. Someone made the mistake of thinking that Aaron was helpless in his current state and Austin pays the price. Razor sharp ink cuts across his chest; not deep enough to kill him, but just enough that it stings like hell. “Fuck!” 

“Leave her alone Austin,” Aaron warns. There’s not much else he can do with his hands cuffed behind his back. That little bit of magic used up the last of his energy and he eyes close. Alex’s eyes flicker to the rear view mirror to see what happened, but keeps quiet. He must have realized that Austin is in no danger of bleeding to death. 

“Austin, I don’t even want you looking in the girl’s direction between now and when we get to the apartment,” Alex says smoothly, eyes back on the road. Austin grumbles in annoyance, but backs off, rubbing at his chest. Nerida climbs over the centre console to help Austin stop the bleeding. By the time they reach the private airport, they’ve managed to clean up most of the blood.  


Aaron needs help getting out of the van with his hands useless behind his back. Ezekiel takes his time arriving at the van, standing in front of Aaron. “I heard you were causing some trouble, Aaron? Do I need to remind you of your place here?” 

“We were just late on his dose,” Alex interjects, strolling up behind Ezekiel. “It was a miscalculation.” 

Spinning on his heels, Ezekiel backhands him without a second thought. Alex takes it with grace, breathing deeply through his nose. Aaron is surprised that Alex didn’t return the hit, considering what Aaron’s seen Alex do during training. “That will not happen again, yes? Or you’ll be joining Aaron for his reminder.” 

“Of course.” 

Satisfied, Ezekiel gets back in the car he came in. Cassie climbs in the back with Aaron, while Alex gets back in the driver seat. The drive to the apartment takes twenty tense minutes. Aaron wonders how they’ll get the struggling and unwilling girl inside, but nobody else seems concerned so he doesn’t bring it up. 

Alex pulls up in front of a ten story building, which Aaron assumes is their stop. Still handcuffed, Aaron turns to Cassie. “Can someone take off these cuffs?” 

Cassie looks at Alex, who shrugs, handing over the key. “Sure.”

To Aaron’s surprise, Nikita doesn’t put up a fight when Nerida helps her out of the van. The lobby is empty and the elevator ride up is uneventful. Aaron guesses he should consider them luck that she didn’t put up a fight or things would have gotten complicated. Austin pulls forward to unlock the door, holding it open for everyone. Aaron notices that the apartment is completely open, the only rooms that has walls is the bathroom. There’s a queen bed on the west wall, immediately to his left, and a bunk bed to his right. In front of him is the kitchen and the remaining space is taken up by the living room. Aaron doesn’t know how they’ll manage living in the small apartment with seven people, and it seems Nerida is having similar thoughts. 

“Someone's going to end up dead by the end of this mission,” she says, setting her bag down on the island. Aaron silently agrees with her. Even Alex doesn’t look impressed with the place. “What is Ezekiel thinking?” 

“Ezekiel is thinking that everyone better shut up and suck it up.” Aaron thanks whatever god is listening that it wasn't him who said that aloud. Nerida flushes, turning around to face Ezekiel. None of them heard his arrival. “We have a mission to complete and I expect all of you to act professionally.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

Realizing that Ezekiel’s little display of dominance is over; Aaron drops his bag on the bottom bunk. Surveying the apartment a final time, he sighs. This is going to be hell. 

Oh, and how Aaron hates being right. The next five days are torture. Aaron heard Nerida bet Austin that Alex is one push away from snapping and stabbing Ezekiel. Austin disagrees and thinks it's going to be Cassie. Personal, Aaron thinks Nerida is right, but doesn't say anything. Currently, everyone is lounging around, mourning the loss of the AC, which broke yesterday. 

"How much longer is this going to take?" Nerida whines, flopping down onto the dusty couch. The apartment they're using looks like it hasn't been used in years. It's dusty and dirty, and Alex is pretty sure he saw a dead mouse in the bathroom. 

"Tomorrow is the deadline. Mr. Douglas will either change his opinion or the girl will die," Alex says. Since the apartment is completely open except for the bathroom, from where Aaron's sitting on the counter, he can see Nikita tucked between the bed and the wall. They've been trapped in the apartment for five days now. Ezekiel is paranoid that someone will recognize Aaron, making him as much of a prisoner as Nikita. Only Alex and Cassie have left the apartment for small errands, like picking up food and pain medication for Austin. Aaron refuses to feel guilty about that. 

Nerida complains loudly that there’s absolutely no food and says that her and Cassie will go get some supper. Ezekiel, who hasn't said more than ten words since arriving at the apartment, waves his hand in a manner that says he doesn’t care. Slipping off the counter, Aaron goes to lock the door behind the girls. Instead of returning to where he was sitting, Aaron slips outside onto the balcony. The apartment doesn’t have much of a view, but that isn’t why Aaron came outside. Six floors down, a man plays the guitar on the sidewalk. Not many people stop to listen, but the guitar case is filled with crumpled bills and change. 

The guy’s playing some pop song Aaron's heard on the radio, but doesn’t know the words. He taps his fingers to the beat, enjoying the familiarity of just listening to music. When he wasn’t in class, Aaron could always be found with a pair of headphones in his ears. It made the world a little more bearable. 

Aaron registers that the door opens, but doesn't turn. He isn't surprised to feel a presence come to stand beside him, but when he turns his head a fraction, his eyebrows furrow when he sees who’s standing beside him. 

“The others scare me,” Nikita whispers. Aaron nods. That makes sense considering Austin’s earlier comments, Ezekiel’s general personality and Alex’s quietness. “You’re different.” 

“I’m still a bad person.” 

“You’re different,” she repeats. 

Aaron doesn’t have time to come up with a suitable reply when the doorbell rings. Turning to watch Alex go to open the door, he almost misses the soft ticking. Looking around in confusion, his eyes land on a small box with a blinking red light. Without thinking, Aaron lets his instincts control he reactions. 

“Bomb!” 

He has his arms wrapped around Nikita just as the bomb detonates, sending them flying through the glass windows. Landing on his back, shards of glass pierce Aaron’s skin, ripping a pained gasp from his body. Nikita lies on his stomach, blood running down the side of her face. He doesn’t have much time before the next wave of attacks will happen. Checking to make sure she has a pulse, Aaron shoves her into the bedroom closet, closing the door just as the front door bursts open. 

Alex can’t seem to understand what's happening around him. He was far enough away from the bomb that it didn’t affect him, but he remains frozen. Ezekiel is on his feet and shouting orders as eight people in masks make their way into the room. Before Alex can regain his composure, someone smacks him in the face with their gun. He drops like a stone to the floor, not moving. 

Aaron doesn’t wait for Ezekiel's signal. As soon as Alex is decommissioned, Ezekiel’s hands spark before bursting into a ball of flames. Aaron worries for a moment that Ezekiel will burn down the apartment if he’s not careful, but Ezekiel has excellent control of his ability. Not a single spark lands on the carpet as Ezekiel takes down the two people standing on either side of him. They’re not dead, and Ezekiel wouldn’t usually allow such mercy, but his attention shifts as he watches what is happening around the room. 

Aaron seems to be managing by himself. Fighting against someone at least a foot taller than him, Aaron keeps out of their reach and attacks from a distance. The ink of his tattoos oozes out of his skin and manifests into a staff in his hand. Ezekiel knows that Aaron has more tattoos hidden under his clothing and wonders just how much ink he can manipulate at one time. Oh well, things to think about later.

Deflecting a blow, Ezekiel realizes he has yet to see any of them use an ability, and that worries him. Usually people are eager to show off their abilities and rarely wait to use them in battle. It’s possible that none of them have an ability, but Ezekiel doesn’t think that’s the case. His suspicion is soon proved correct when one of his opponents lifts their mask up to reveal their face. Ezekiel doesn’t recognize the person, but he recognizes the misty look they have in their eyes. 

Aaron stops fighting to watch in confusion as dark smoke flows around his feet, causing the exposed skin of his lower legs to tingle. Its an off-putting sensation, which serves its purpose beautifully because when Aaron looks up, he has two guns pointed at his head. Austin and Ezekiel are in similar situations, hands raised in the air, facing Aaron. Ezekiel looks furious. 

Since he’s facing away from the door, Aaron can’t see who’s joined the party when the front door opens. 

“Ezekiel Roosevelt, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” Aaron cannot turn his head to see whose speaking, but Austin pales and Ezekiel looks uncomfortable. 

“Venus Hatford, why are you here? This isn't your problem?” Ezekiel seems genuinely curious, almost like he hasn't notice the three different guns pointed at his head. “Why would you care about Mr. Douglas?”

The coffee table is pushed out of the way so Venus can walk closer to Ezekiel, which means that Aaron can finally see the woman who orchestrated the whole ambush. If someone hadn’t filled Aaron in on Ezekiel's parentage, he might have thought Ezekiel was secretly a traitor. Ezekiel and Venus look too similar for it to be a coincidence. Their hair is almost the same colour of auburn. Aaron wonders if Ezekiel ever resents the way he looks. 

“Mr. Douglas? Oh, dear cousin, you have this all wrong. You kidnapped a person under Hatford protection. Did you really think we wouldn’t do anything?” Venus asks sweetly. Just as Aaron is about to ask something stupid, like “Who?”, Nikita crawls out from the closet. She quickly runs to Venus’s side, taking obvious comfort in the other girl’s presence. 

Ezekiel blinks slowly. “Nikita is under your protection?” he asks dumbly. “Interesting.” Lowering his hands, Ezekiel goes to sit on the arm of the couch with a contemplating look. “Very interesting. Is she all you came for?” 

“Yes.” Now it’s Venus’s turn to look taken back. “Are you going to just let us take her?” 

“Sure. We were going to let her go in a couple hours anyway. We just wanted to scare Mr. Douglas.” 

“How diplomatic of you,” one of the other people in the room says. “I guess it’s only polite to return the gesture.” 

Venus nods in agreement, raising her hand to signal for everyone to lower their weapons. Now that Aaron can move without fear of getting his head blown off he looks around. The eight people scattered around the room all have guns. “You’re just going to let us go?” 

Austin shoots Aaron a startled look, like he can’t believe Aaron just asked that question. Thankfully, instead of going for the gun strapped to her thigh, Venus looks amused. “Yes. You aren't important enough to start a war over.” 

“How diplomatic of you,” Ezekiel sarcastically repeats. “I’m assuming Cassie and Nerida will be returned unharmed.” 

Handing Nikita over to the person to her left, Venus pulls a pair of handcuffs out of her pocket. “Of course. They’re in the apartment under us.” Venus steps towards Ezekiel, almost looking apologetic. “I will have to cuff you though.” 

“You can try.” 

Venus smiles dangerously. “Goodbye, cousin.” 

Suddenly, the room begins to fill with the same dark smoke from earlier. They’re all too preoccupied trying not to choke on the smoke that nobody notices they’re now alone. This is the second time they’ve been distracted by the smoke, allowing their enemy to get the upper hand in both situations. Ezekiel cannot let that stand. 

As the smoke clears, Austin wipes the tears away from his eyes. Aaron pretends not to be as frightened as he feels, and runs his hand through his hair. While looking at the damaged room, something dawns on Austin. “Where’s Alex?” 

Shrugging, Aaron makes a show of looking under the coffee table. Since the beginning of the fight, Alex was lying unconscious on the floor by the door. Just like Venus Hatford and her group, it appears Alex vanished in the cloud of smoke.


End file.
